I Got You
by Kirra kills
Summary: When Terminal has to save Batman, he gets pulled into a rather large plot. Will he side with his enemies, or their enemies-the government?
1. Poisoning

Terry didn't know what he'd been hit with, something dusty had been flung in his face and now he was shaking and sweating, and it'd only been a few minutes. But he managed to fight well enough to knock out his assailant, and then stumbled away. By this point the whole world was spinning around his head and he felt like throwing up. What was that dust. He couldn't use the flight capabilities, his boots had been disabled a few hours ago when the rest of the Justice League had been separated. In the middle of Joker territory, and now Terry felt ill.

"Hey Bats-Bats? Shit"

There was someone there. Terry couldn't make out who it was. He moved hazily towards the voice, and pitched forward after a few steps. Whoever it was ran and caught him. Terry curled into the stronger body. The person was talking but all Terry could hear was a buzzing as he fought to stay conscious. "We-we n-need to…"

"Batman, Batman! Look at me, focus on me" Terry raised his head and tried to do as he was told. In his drugged state he was still able to feel fear. It was Terminal, leader of the Jokerz. But he looked concerned. He looked like he was debating something and then cursed and scooped Terry up bridal style. "I'm going to take care of you" He said quietly. Terry wrapped his arms around Terminal's neck to get a sense of stability and rested his head on Terminal's shoulder. Everything started fading in and out.

Darkness then the sense they were running then more darkness then sharp turns and the sense they were underground and more darkness and Terminal holding his hand and telling him to just focus on his voice, don't pass out then more darkness and then Terry wasn't in his arms anymore he was on a mattress and he was cold, so cold and shaking and thirsty. Terminal was crouched beside him and lifted Terry's head up so he could drink water. Then he was laid back down. Terry reached a hand out blindly, scared and needing reassurance. He was only twenty-two years old. He didn't want to die like this. A rough calloused hand gripped his costumed one and squeezed it.

"I'm not leaving Batman" Terminal said quietly and Terry gasped out in relief. Maybe Terminal was blood-thirsty and psychotic, but he was all Terry had at the moment. Terry held onto the hand for dear life. He felt his hold on reality slipping.

"I don't want to die!" he whispered as he fell into blackness.

Carter didn't know what he was thinking, taking his enemy to his safe-house in the sewer-system under Gotham. But the guy was so scared, and Carter remembered painfully suddenly being sick and alone locked in his room, his mother refusing to comfort or take care of him. He'd almost died twice from her neglect when he was sick. And looking at Batman, so vulnerable...He couldn't kill him. Couldn't even bring himself to try. So he'd picked the man up and carried him to the nearest subway entrance and through there made his way to the forgotten tunnels leading to the sewers. Nobody came down here, there were too many creatures and outcasts living in these tunnels. Carter feared nobody, and nothing here dared take him down or challenge him. It made for the perfect hiding place.

Carter continued talking to Batman the whole time they were walking, trying to get him to stay awake, stay focused and hopefully not die from whatever was in his system. It wasn't something from his Jokerz, they had to okay every toxin with him or Ghoul before using. And he hadn't okayed a toxin that caused a fever and everything else. Unless Ivy was sending her plant-people to infiltrate again, nobody was able to cause this sort of poison. Batman woke up again when he laid him down on his bed and reached out for his hand. His heart clenched at the trembling whimper "I don't want to die".

Carter sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He couldn't take the suit or mask off, he respected Batman too much. But if he didn't act, the fever would probably kill Batman. He grimaced and began moving the man around, looking for a way to take the suit off. He'd leave the mask for now. Everyone deserved their , he found a button that released the suit and he was able to unzip it from the back and pull it down and away from Batman's body. Jesus, did this guy ever go outside? Carter went a little red when he got down to the crotch and realized the guy was naked in the suit. To be fair though, couldn't really adjust anything that rode up in something this skintight. This was why Carter and all his Jokerz wore practical clothing, if eccentric. It might not look as cool, but it was way more comfortable.

When Carter finished pulling off the suit he folded it and put it at Batman's feet and then went to get a washcloth and cold water. His little sanctuary was a former worker's breakroom. It was complete with a bathroom with working pipes and shower, and a small kitchenette. It was long since abandoned and he took advantage of it. Nobody even knew it was here. He came back to where Batman was and dripped the cold water on the heated skin. Batman shuddered but didn't wake up. Carter kneeled and rubbed Batman's chest with the washcloth and gripped his shoulder. He was mainly trying to ease the shaking, and it abated a little. He'd do more good with the cloth on the forehead, but the mask was covering the skin.

After a little while Carter took his stack of blankets from beside the mattress and heaped them on Batman. He went back to sitting beside him and after a few minutes took his hand. He sat this way for a while before hearing a buzzing coming from the ear area. Carter reached out and felt the side of Batman's head. His fingers came away with a comm link. He sneered at it and considered crushing it in his fingers, but the thought that if he did the Justice League would come after him stopped him. He put it up to his ear.

" _Batman, where are you? Come in Batman_ "

Carter coughed slightly and pitched his voice a couple octaves higher. "Batman is sick, he inhaled something. I'm taking care of him"

" _Who are you?_ **Where** _are you? We'll come get our comrade_ "

"He can't be moved right now. I have the tools to reverse this, but it's going to take a few days. A week, tops. I'll bring him to you when the fever breaks"

" _...Noted. Contact us as soon as Batman is able to stand_ "

Whoever was on the other line didn't sound happy but the comm link buzzed and then went dead and Carter breathed a sigh of relief. He looked over at Batman. He was more trouble than he was worth, but Carter would take care of him. He squeezed the unconscious man's hand.

It was then that Batman started talking in his sleep. And Carter listened with growing glee.

All the secrets of the Justice League, being spilled by a delirious man too weak to fight back. And, all the secrets of the Batman himself.

Carter felt his gut tighten. _Terry_.

* * *

A/N: I'm back baby! after years and years lol. decided to try a weird pairing. too bad the thing doesn't have Terminal/Carter as a character in the listings..


	2. Capture

It wasn't hard to figure out what Terry had been hit with. Angel's Trumpet was a very distinct poison, and when breathed in or ingested caused everything Terry was exhibiting. The fever, the hallucinations (blabbering everything to people Carter couldn't see was both helpful and annoying), euphoria (his singing was actually pretty good but switching between hearing screaming and singing was [i]not[/i] how Terminal wanted to spend his week helping the masked hero) and intense pain for the young man.

So it wasn't hard figuring out what the poison was, _treating_ it was another matter entirely. He had to get help, much as he hated to admit it. So, he went to the only person that could help;the one who'd caused this mess in the first place.

"Ivy, darling, you crazy woman. Have you been infiltrating my Jokerz again?"

Soft laughter and the woman came out of the backroom of her greenhouse/mansion. Terminal grinned though he knew Terry was on a ticking clock. The poisoning usually shut down the kidneys at 24 hours, and it had been fifteen. Batman's life was on the line.

"Carter darling, it's been too long my dear" she walked up to him and hot _damn_ despite being in her seventies she looked not a day over forty. In other words, she looked like some hot soccer mom that moonlighted as a model. It always made Terminal a little dizzy when he had to deal with her, as he was a bi-sexual man and her pheromones still affected him. Today was no different. He put a hand over his nose as the pheromones she put out as a safety net to keep unwanted males away filled his nostrils. She laughed and ran a pale green hand down his cheek. His stomach turned in a dizzy flip-flop of butterflies. "Have some tea lovely. Sit and talk"

It took some willpower, but he brushed her hand away. "No, thanks. One of my own got poisoned by one of your creatures, Ivy. I need you to give me your antidote and I'll just be on my way" Her face crinkled into a knowing smile.

"What's the matter? Is this one of your non-expendables? Don't tell me-Ghoul ran into one and accidentally got poisoned again!" okay, so that had happened once as far as Terminal knew, but the woman never let it go.

"No, but someone just as important" Yes, Terry was important. He was motherfucking _Batman_ and that demanded respect. Terminal mimicked the tilt of Ivy's head and smiled grimly at her.

"Unless you want to have my people burn your home down, you get me it _now_ " he was losing patience. Terry was alone and suffering and needed Terminal there, right there now. She smirked and a hand played with his long black hair, twirling it around her finger.

"And besides not burning my house down, what will you do for me?"

"Dear lady, anything you desire within reason" he noted the way she looked at him with some disgust. He was not having sex with her, he was obligated to his own personal tastes and she was not one of them. She sniffed in disdain and backed away from him.

"Fine then. Traffic my drugs for a few months. I think the immortal members of the League are on to me"

"Deal, but not in Batgirl's domain. Bitch kicks the shit out of my guys and the police back her"

"Fair enough"

"The drug is Angel's Trumpet, by the way" Terminal commented and Ivy smiled and nodded once before disappearing into her back room. She came back a few minutes later with a syringe filled with liquid and some pills. "Give the shot to your afflicted first, it'll kill whatever's in the blood. Pills are for nausea, and are not addictive, I promise" He'd see about that. It was like her to double cross him.

He took the items offered and inclined his head before backing towards the door. It wouldn't have been the first time she'd tried to drag him with her vines into having tea or worse. "What's the matter Terminal, don't trust me?" she crooned teasingly. He raised an eyebrow.

"Would you trust you?" at her silence he smiled slightly. "Thought not"

Terry was spasming on the mattress and Terminal crouched beside him. "Bats, this is probably going to hurt" he warned before holding Terry bodily down and sticking the needle into his neck where the veins were protruding like rope. Terry screamed and Carter got the needle out as soon as the liquid had been put in and moved so Terry was curled up in his arms, Terry's head in his chest as Terry continued to scream. Terminal held him tightly and wished for this to stop. For it all to stop.

Eventually Terry quieted and fell asleep and Carter put him down and covered him in blankets before retreating to a corner with an old laptop and machines he'd repurposed, or was still working on repurposing. He had bugs that Batman had put on him over the years, repurposed and working as transmitters for his Jokerz. Beacons if you will, when crushed they'd send a distress signal to himself or Ghoul. Depending on who it was, they got there as fast as they could. He slipped a few into his pockets on his jeans and sighed as he picked up a screwdriver and began working on a cleaning bot. Whenever he did he remembered repurposing similar bots to kill Maxine. She was now the leading technologies developer in Wayne-Powers Industries. As it should be, honestly.

He was dozing by his projects when Terry stirred and woke him all the way up. "Where am I? Why-why the FUCK am I _naked_?"

So, Terry didn't normally forego anything underneath? Good to note. "Fuck if I know man, you were naked under the suit already" Terry's head whipped to where Terminal was and then he curled up, groaning.

"Oh for fuck's sake, I feel like I got hit by a train" he moaned and Terminal chuckled.

"Terry"

"Oh god _no_ " the anguished moan made Terminal laugh a little more and he inclined his head.

"I didn't look, by the way. But with the poisoning you were screaming for Dana, and your mom and fuck knows who else. It wasn't hard to piece together who you were" there was intense silence and Terminal got up to walk over to Terry, kneeling down beside the kid with the mask still on.

"I'm not even dating Dana though, why would I…?" Carter shrugged at him. Hell if he knew, the human brain was far beyond his capabilities of understanding.

"You wanna take the mask off, there?" he asked quietly. "Seriously Terry, you'll feel better if you take the mask off. You've got to be grossed out from the sweat, not to mention there might still be poison powder in your mask. I can clean-"

"No"

Terry tried to stand and Terminal let him try. He got partway up before his legs gave out and he fell in a heap to the ground. Terminal sighed and moved closer to Terry, hovering over him. "You're in no condition to play hero" he said reasonably. "And if I wanted to kill you I would have"

"So what, I'm a hostage?"

Terminal hesitated but shook his head. "No. I don't _need_ a superhero hostage. Your people are going to be on me like flies on a dead dog if I pulled something like that. No, thank you"

"So...why the hell did you risk it?"

"Good question"

"The guy who has a dozen back-up plans for his back-up plans doesn't _know_?" disbelief was evident in Terry's voice and Terminal snorted.

"It was more an impulse, you were begging me for help. And then " _I don't want to die!_ " he mimicked Terry's breathless terror-stricken voice from a day ago and Terry grit his teeth. Terminal waved a hand. "I know what it's like, you know. Being sick with nobody to comfort you. You wanna know how many times my bitch of a mom almost killed me over being sick, or showing any sort of weakness? I couldn't-when I saw you I saw me, and I couldn't do it"

"Are you giving me a line or are you telling me the truth?"

Terminal shook his head and got up. "Go to sleep Terry"

"I want my suit first"

Terminal rolled his eyes and gestured to the foot of the mattress.

"God's sake, Terry, I'm not hiding it. The last thing I want is to hurt you"

"Your history precedes you, Carter. Or have you forgotten your previous exploits with The Batman?"

Terminal shook his head again at his old name. "Older, better, faster, stronger. I'm not as green as I once was. I know better than to rattle a hornet's nest"

Terry was fading, sinking back onto the mattress. But he smirked at Terminal.

"Except you did anyway, smart guy"

And Terminal had the sinking suspicion he was right.

It took two days, most of which Terry was either antagonistic or unconscious, but finally he seemed well enough that Terminal felt it safe to take him back to the upperworld and the people waiting for him. So Terminal put him back in the suit, made sure he was sound asleep, grabbed some guns and other devices in case things went south, and started carrying Terry to a little park he knew, somewhere far from the Jokerz area and quite a ways away from Terminal's safehouse location. Halfway there he took the commlink and turned it on.

"Hey, greetings. I've got your friend Batman" he said, again pitching his voice. "I'm going to put him in a park, you can locate him from there"

He turned the link off before they could respond and quickly made his way to the park, where he intended to deposit Terry on a bench and get out of there before anyone was the wiser.

Well, it almost went that way. And that has to count for something, right?

When Terminal got to the park he put Terry on the bench just across from a swingset and straightened, one hand lightly brushing Terry's chest. Once, he'd wanted to start a relationship with the guy. But between Dana and Terminal's mother, it had always been a fantasy. Now there were even more complications.

In that moment of contemplation Terry grabbed his hand tightly.

"Karma" Terry hissed and Terminal started, hearing sounds all around them. It had to be the Dumbass League.

"Terry, let go" he hissed back and Terry held on tighter.

"You deserve what's going to happen and one halfway good deed won't change that"

Finally Terry let go and Terminal launched himself over the bench and towards his escape route, unholstering his guns and running for dear life. A red blur and suddenly there was a speedster in his way. Terminal snarled and veered away. All exits were blocked. So he started shooting.

Someone grabbed his shoulder and Terminal slammed his elbow into them and did a low sweep before clocking whoever it was on the head with the butt of his gun. A faceless woman fell in a heap at his feet. Next the current Batgirl charged at him and he just headbutted her as she leaped forward, his head catching her in the stomach. Someone blasted energy bolts and Terminal dodged them, though some singed his hair, and began firing at the figures. An african-American mixed girl with dreads and an older gent in a trenchcoat and sharing her blue eyes. The Constantine family, fuck it.

"We ain't wantin to harm ya mate" John Constantine called and Terminal barked humorless laughter.

"Then stop fucking attacking me and let me walk away!" he shouted back.

A second later he grunted as a gun slammed into the side of his head, making him stumble. He grimaced and started shooting at the dude, Red Hood it looked like. It was then something landed on his back and he was thrust down to a kneeling position, with the feeling of the wind knocked out of him. People quickly grabbed his arms and yanked the guns out of his hands as he struggled. A steel gloved hand grabbed his chin and forced him to look into the hooded face. Warhawk, Terminal's greatest rival beside Bats himself. Terminal glared daggers at the Dumbass League man and tried to get his face free.

"What did you have planned with Batman?"

"Terry? Nothing. I'd _never_ hurt him" under the mask Warhawk's eyes widened and his hand clenched tighter on Terminal's face, causing the long haired man to grimace.

"You the reason Terry was naked?" he couldn't help asking with a smirk. Warhawk's face grew dark and he let go of Terminal to punch him in the face, knocking him out.

"We're taking him with us, finding out if he knows anything else"

Ghoul followed the distress signal of Terminal's (he knew it was Terminal because he had a distinct distress beacon; on Ghoul's equipment it looked like a jester crown) distress signal to a little snow-covered park, snow marred with heavy activity. There were blast marks along some buildings and Ghoul knew it was Terminal's gun. Ghoul sighed.

"Suppose I have to play "rescue" now, don't I? Oh, joy of joys…" Ghoul snorted. It might be fun, breaking into a superhero base.

* * *

A/N: and Rex "Warhawk" Stewart are together. is Terminal holding a flame for Terry? Yes. will that come up later? Do penguins like fish?


	3. Trauma

They had taken him to New Arkham. Of course they had. They'd never take him to somewhere like their base. Although they seemed to be talking about taking him to their base after his psych eval. Didn't they know he kind of rocked those? He could manipulate the test and get out early. He knew the system. But it was sort of nice they were talking to each other in front of his room-yes, room, at least they'd given him that much-while they argued. Most of them had taken off their masks and helmets. Might as well, he'd named them in an act of angry defiance when they'd thrown him into his little asylum room. He'd pieced it together. Terry wasn't all-knowing but he'd known enough people, which had gotten quite a few people ticked off at the actual all-knowing mastermind, Terry's mentor.

The old man was glaring at him currently. Various heroes did at various moments in time. Terminal had a feeling this wing was reserved specifically for their catches so to speak. He seemed to be the only person here that he could see. He didn't know where Inque was, Melanie was hopefully out of this godforsaken city with her pretty brother. The twins were in different cities, lying low until they could safely come back. He didn't know where the Splicers were, or many of them. He'd driven many but the oldest villains, or the most slippery out. Most people couldn't handle Gotham. He couldn't see the little people get hurt, not anymore. They joined him or they got the fuck out. Or they got trampled and he wasn't to blame. But, he was the only one in this wing he could see.

"You know you probably can never be released again, right?"

"Oh, I don't know. You could wipe my memory of Terry's babbling. It'd solve your problem pretty fucking fast"

The old man had a look of momentary grief and then it went back to the stoic stare. Terminal sighed. There was so much history with these people he just wasn't allowed to know. He wasn't sure he _wanted_ to know, but it would contextualize everything. He wanted to put pieces together so he didn't keep stepping on toes with these people. He didn't want to please, but he certainly wasn't looking to hurt. He was well aware they could do something to him if he wasn't careful. But how could he be careful if he was walking in a landmine field blindfolded?

Terminal turned his head towards the wall and jiggled his knee as he leaned against the bed. The old man continued to stare at him. "You were Batman a really long time" Terminal commented offhandedly. "That's cool, I guess. How do you feel about Terry replacing you?"

"Careful, as the wizard said, don't look at the man behind the curtain"

Terminal snorted slightly. "So you're the one pulling the strings? But as far as I'm concerned, it's _Terry_ throwing the punches, _Terry_ deciding on mercy or mayhem. Not you. Not anymore. You just sit in the chair and watch your gopher live a life you wish you still could" The glare intensified. Jesus, was this the infamous Batglare? No wonder so many lost their shit in the past. It was disconcerting.

"You're lucky I'm not in there" was finally said and Terminal sighed.

"Yea, I guess I am. I know you'd probably reduce me to a quivering ball of raw emotion. But I wouldn't tell you anything you don't already know. I know who many of you are. I didn't hurt Terry, I would _never_ knowingly hurt Terry"

"The question is why, isn't it?"

Terminal closed his eyes wearily as the old man left. Why he'd done it was nobody's business. Why he cared about Terry when Terry had visited Willie and not him was nobody's business. Terry was kind. Terry genuinely loved and cared about everyone. He had cared about Terminal and given him his condolences when he didn't get the valedictorian position. Terminal didn't blame him for this situation that they were currently in. He did deserve this. Terry's hate was earned. And yet...Terry smiling. Those blue eyes looking at him the way they had looked at Dana. The way they now looked at Rex. Fuck it. Terry looking at Rex, curled in his arms. Terry doing things with him. Did they like reading together, or playing video games? Did They go walking or stay home? Did they live together? They did look great together. Rex deserved Terry far more than Terminal did. Rex probably didn't have an abusive mother who'd probably try to verbally flay Terry alive. If she were even still alive. But back then, when he had a chance. But then, Dana had been a thing.

"I can smell gears almost. You plotting an escape?"

Terminal laughed. Short and humorless.

"Nah. I wouldn't make it out the door without you people fucking me up. You took my guns, my knives, my smoke bombs and joker gas pellets. You even took my fucking clothes"

"The clothes are standard here. You are a patient"

"I'm a prisoner"

Terminal got up off the bed and walked to a maskless Rex. He _was_ handsome. Not pretty. He was one of those rugged lookers you just wanted to sweep you off your feet. Terminal got the sense in different circumstances he'd probably crush on the civilian form of Warhawk. But an armoured hand punching you in the jaw really hurts and Warhawk had always been one of the more brutal people in the Justice League.

"I get the sense you like cowboy hats, and the armor is because of your heritage and not because you are a medieval reenactment fantatic" he said thoughtfully, more to himself than to Rex. Warhawk. Rex. God this was confusing. But he was really trying to see this man as a _person_ because he was with Terry. To hell with the others, Rex only mattered because he was with Terry. And Terminal had every reason to suspect Rex was here because he was trying to understand why Terry hated Terminal. Hell, a file that said criminal routinely sanitized under their noses was hardly anything to go off of. Rex tilted his head.

"You do that a lot, don't you? Make theories to try and understand people, or categorize them in your head"

Terminal shrugged.

"It saves time and sometimes lives. Half the time I'm wrong but you seem the country boy type. Maybe not liking the music per se, but I could see you rocking a rodeo" He only got a long look in return.

"If you're wondering. I did try to kill Maxine. And whatever reason I give will probably seem petty. People say I'm crazy. I'm...not...exactly. I'm bipolar. I go through manic episodes. Maxine was an unfortunate case of…" he couldn't admit about his mother. He literally could not speak about his mom. Not to Ghoul, not to Deidre, not to the counselor at his therapy sessions. He was just acting out. He sighed. "An unfortunate case of a manic depressive episode, a thing I thought was guaranteed to be mine was not. And the fact that I was putting myself to impossible standards I knew I couldn't reach so I lived a double life"

"It wasn't all you, was it? You don't wake up deciding 'I'm going to become one of the Jokerz. I'm going to murder people because I don't get my way.' I did not become who I am because soley because I wanted to. I was raised to be this" Dark eyes seared into Terminal's and Terminal had to use all his self control to not double over like he'd been punched. No indication could be given how close to being right Rex was.

"Untreated mental illness can do a lot, make otherwise perfectly normal people do unspeakable acts. It's not always nurture versus nature. It's just genetics" There was a tilt of the head and nothing more. It unsettled Terminal.

"Do you see yourself as Terminal, or Carter?"

"Did Terry ask you to ask me all this?"

Anger was safe. He made himself feel angry when all he really felt was tired, defeated. Was it the old man who was feeding them this information? It probably was. He seemed to have god-like knowledge of everything, why did Terminal think he was any different? That he could outwit the original Batman?

"Are you-"

"Go back to Terry. Just-stop. Stop"

This time Rex did smile. It was small, but smug. Challenging. "And if I don't?"

Terminal shook his head and retreated back to the bed and curled up, his back away from the man. He couldn't fight, or try to kill and yelling just wasn't worth it. What were they trying to do? Make him have a break down?

"Carter"

Terminal growled and got up again, his gut twisting in anxiety and anger. He hadn't wanted to hurt anyone this time why was he being punished? Why was this happening?

"I didn't like you, you know. I don't care about heroes. They never helped me. They never did anything for me. But Terry. Terry without his mask did more good than the old man he gophers for. Maybe that was on orders but hell. He helps people. And he's kind. Usually. You? You sit here and ask questions I know are designed to hurt me, even though you aren't acting like your usual asshole self. He brings out the best in you or you would have been in here trying to break me with fists. The only reason I'm not screaming in anger? Is because I still respect and care for Terry. I want him to be happy. I think he's happy with you, I hope so" All he got in return for this was narrowed eyes. He took a deep breath and continued.

"Your parents made you what you are. Your mother was known for senseless violence, but she tried to be a kind woman. Your father was not a pacifist by any stretch of the term, though severe personality, but he was every inch a green lantern. You got fake wings because you couldn't earn a ring. You became your mother's son with a bitter and angry personality because you couldn't live up to the man your father was"

A fist slammed against the window, making it shake and Terminal knew he was right. Or at least somewhere in the ballpark. Rex looked enraged.

"Do people hate you? I mean, when they know you aren't totally human? Because you look human. If it weren't for your parents claiming you as theirs when you became a hero, I'd never had known" which was years ago. Rex had to be in his mid thirties. Terry was twenty two and Maxine and Terminal a year older. Rex's eyes flickered, his jaw muscles worked. Terminal took a step closer. "People hate you before they even know who you are as a hero, don't they? They hate your mom. And no matter how much you say 'I'm not like the Thanagarians' most people don't believe you" Rex bared his teeth in anger, eyes glaring out at Terminal. Terminal offered a small smile.

"I wonder why it was so easy to forgive you, and not me? Maybe because, you didn't actually do anything. And, Terry never met the people your mother's species directly affected, the species who I bet you've never met and probably could never speak to in their native tongues even if you did, if they'd speak to you at all" Rex's anger seemed to melt out of him. Terminal shrugged.

"Is that why you're here? Because you think we're alike? Unlike you, I was never given a chance to be better. Nobody had faith in me. Your parents believed in you being better than anything that came before. Terry loves you and I do think that, I've never seen you together for more than a few moments, but I do think that. However, life always comes back to Nature vs Nurture, and sometimes crazy just...rewrites all that"

"Your group believes in you"

Terminal nodded. "They have always been the only ones. Besides Terry. Everyone else was just masks in a play. My group was real. Terry was real. I latched onto Terry" He gave a short laugh. "That fairytale creature that just...should not be touched. Not be approached. I'm happy though. I don't _need_ Terry to be happy. He's a fantasy. I made him my fantasy and he's a real person and I shouldn't have done that. But see, I don't need Terry. I have my group, I have my kingdom, I have Deidre and Ghoul and I'm happy" his face softened. "Cedar is turning three in two weeks. I was going to give him a magic set, he always does love anything to do with magic"

He probably shouldn't have mentioned the kid. It's his group's biggest secret. The great-grandson of Joker and Harley. Harley loved her great-grandson. She understood though that they couldn't keep him in Gotham. Terminal couldn't afford to let his son be in danger simply by being there, and the fact that he was the Joker's great-grandchild only made Terminal worried that the damn heroes or government would take the boy away. Rex looked suitably confused.

"Who's Cedar?"

"My son"

It was okay to mention that, he supposed, so long as he never spoke of Cedar's mother. Rex looked like a goldfish and Terminal resisted the urge to laugh.

"I moved on, okay? I have a son I can't see often because of what I do" his face further softened. "But to him, I'm not a hero. Or a villain. I'm just dad. And I love that. I don't need to earn his love. I just need to focus on making sure he's happy and never scared. He likes Descendants, he wants to be like Uma. He had a crush on a boy in preschool named Oscar, and thought a girl in class looked like Wonder Woman, and thought she was pretty last time I was able to see him. I don't care who he loves or what he grows up to be, I just want Cedar safe and happy" there was a look he didn't understand on Rex's face. He looked away.

"Don't"

"Don't what? Lie? I'm not. Don't stop talking? I don't know what you want to hear, so I'm sort of running out of things to say. I didn't spare Terry in an ulterior motive, I honestly didn't know he would tell me all that. I just wanted to help. Because he didn't want to die, and later it was because it was Terry"

"Were you going to see him? This son? Is that where you were headed?" Terminal hesitated but nodded.

"I trusted Ghoul to take care of our empire while I was gone, maybe aggravate idiots in media or the government. I do like poking fun at everyone's shortcomings, and so does Ghoul. Ghoul knows perfectly well what I wanted to do, just hang out with the kid for a few weeks. I haven't seen him in person since summer. He misses me" Rex tilted his head.

"You're a pretty convincing liar"

Terminal gave a twisted smile and inclined his head. "Leave. And go tell Terry to suck you off. You seem unreasonably angry"

The anger was back in Rex's face. He started smiling and held up one hand, the hand that had been kept by his side the whole time. In it was a passkey. Terminal's stomach clenched. He began backing away as Rex stalked towards his door.

"No, I'm sorry. Don't"

"You don't know what I'm going to do"

There were a lot of things Terminal could guess Rex was going to do. But with his own comment, most probably received as a defiant challenge, he could make a pretty good guess what Rex _wanted_ to do. It made no sense. Rex had never seemed like this sort of bully, he just seemed single minded and angry.

"Don't hurt me" Terminal felt himself falling into his old stance, his broken self that he'd tried to fix. Why was it so easy to become the victim? He could hold his own against Ivy who was basically asking for the same thing. But Rex. Rex was terrifying. Why? The door opened and Terminal's back hit the wall. He slid down into a sitting position and curled up with his knees and arms protectively against his torso. Rex just walked closer with horrid promise. Terminal knew that Rex was his build, roughly, and only had about an inch, maybe an inch and a half, on him. Terminal also knew how to handle opponents with weight and height advantages. So why was this terrifying?

Because there was that thought that Terry had put this man up to this. Terry was so full of hate he'd compel his partner to hurt somebody. It didn't sound like Terry. Or most of the heroes for that matter. Maybe one or two, but Terminal wasn't certain. And not like this. This? This was something his mother would probably do. Not to him, but certainly to people she'd have thought he liked, leading them to believe he'd been behind it and leading him into a life of isolation.

Rex approached him, knelt down and ran a calloused hand through his hair. Terminal didn't dare turn his head or close his eyes. That hand could very well close and pull and make him hurt. It was gentle. And Terminal's heart ached for it. He liked Terry and Rex, together. He wasn't certain he liked Rex, he didn't know him really outside the Warhawk persona, and that persona was opinionated, bossy and violent. But Rex seemed kind. Why was this happening? His hands over his mouth were forced away and restrained and Rex leaned in.

"Daddy?"

He turned his head despite the tightening hand in his hair and stared at the child in confusion. What was Cedar doing here? His strawberry blond hair was a little too long and flopping over his eyes. One eye was blue like his mother's, the other was half dark brown almost black and half blue. It was disconcerting. He was clutching a doll. It was a raggedy Andy doll. Things weren't adding up. Raggedy Andy had been Terminal's favorite doll when he was a child, it had been passed down to him. His only connection to past family members besides his mother. He hadn't been allowed to take it when he was taken to prison, and when he came home, it was gone. That had been the night he killed his mother. The night he pushed her body over the ledge of the window to her room and watched her lifeless body fall, knowing she'd be ruled as a suicide. He'd left with no indication he'd been there at all. In his shock at seeing his old doll, his son, his body involuntarily relaxed and Rex pulled his legs down, spread them. Terminal tried to push him away with his freed hands but the hand in his hair pulled so hard and made him cry out.

"No, not here. He's a _child_ -"

It was cut off with a brutal kiss, a hand invading his space and dipping below his pantsline, touching him intimately and Terminal tried to get away from the touch, but was literally pinned. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think.

"Enough"

It was a different voice. Female. Everything started dissolving. Suddenly, Terminal remembered, and it all made sense.

* * *

He was sitting in the chair, strapped in as the first time they'd tried this, at his own invitation, he'd involuntarily started self harming from the torment of his own mind. He was willing to let them see things they had, in conversation, agreed the heroes could know. What he hadn't counted on was a set of mental traps he hadn't known he'd made, for himself and whoever was questioning him. Miss Martian was the latest to try, and had been unable to actually do anything beyond initiate and end the session. John Constantine had been the first, and had been trapped in a survival horror game of twisted memories of Terminal's childhood, only the memories were made up of the heroes, and people Terminal knew. John had opted out trying again when he'd been forced to kill his daughter, in a reenactment of Terminal trying to kill Max. It was strange because Terminal also was there, with no memory of being at the hero's base. The person initiating the mind meld, as he called it, also forgot when they encountered him. When his panic got too much, things started fracturing and people suddenly remembered in time to get them out. Rose had gone in as well, and had undergone a similar thing as her father, though she had been the subject of tests with Terminal. It always took place in the asylum.

The Constantines had even commented that someone like him, with no training, couldn't possibly have that level of control over his mind without some form of deep insanity. But Terminal knew it wasn't something like schizophrenia, which he guessed some of them were considering. Unlike what people thought, he wasn't totally insane and rarely did things for no reason. He didn't fit the personality type of schizophrenics and paranoia wasn't part of his life. Hallucinations were not a thing either. Delusions, maybe, but that could come from many things.

The trips into his mind were always allowed and were always broadcast by the person initiating it, even if they weren't aware. So when Terminal caught sight of Rex looking fairly horrified, he turned away in shame. He _knew_ that Rex would never, ever do that. Especially in front of a child. Or when the person was asking for him to stop. He didn't know him well, but it was a gut feeling. Terry wouldn't like someone who was that slimy. It was his deepest fears. That Terry would set Rex up to hurt him. Terry also looked horrified and, well, hurt. Yea, Terminal didn't doubt that would be seen as an insult.

"I suppose I should just _tell_ you because obviously this isn't working" he finally said, shifting in the restraints as his face ached from the healing self imposed scratches, along his own eyes and cheeks. Some on his neck too.

"Would probably be best" Observed one of Terry's "family" dryly. He couldn't really tell the men apart. Bruce, whether he had slept with each of his "children" or not, certainly had a type when it came to picking them out. The only guy that wasn't blue eyed and caucasian was the dreadlocked Phillipino American man sitting there. The Signal, an immortal metahuman. One of the most powerful metas in existance. Terminal kept his distance from Signal, but they had mutual respect. Signal left the Jokerz alone for the most part, and Terminal sometimes left tipoffs for him about where some of the nastier things Signal was uniquely built to handle was.

"We now know you have a son. Is he intended to be the heir to your empire?"

A fair question. "I don't know. Maybe. If he wants it. I was actually in a mindset of; "I really want someone who will love me irrevocably and I want to have that challenge of living up to that love" and relaying that want to someone who had a similar dream. We weren't really, I dunno, more than physically attracted? But through Cedar, we've grown to be good friends"

"What are your alliances with the other villains?"

"Ivy wants sex with me, though I guess it's more from I'm young and I talk to her on a regular basis. Granted she poisons my people, but hey, semantics. I know I'm good looking, and it's common for people to try" his eyes slid to Rex who was cradling his face in a hand. It wasn't his fault. It was Terminal's construct of him in his mind. Terminal sighed. "I made myself scary with long hair and in a weird outfit so nobody would touch me. Because only really creepy or really desperate freaks try to sleep with horror monsters" he shrugged. "Penguin I work with, sometimes. I'm honestly surprised he's still alive. Mostly I move items through his area. Sometimes for Ivy, sometimes for me, sometimes even for him. He's not bad, if you know how to play nice. He likes manners above all. I don't wear my make-up when he's around, and he likes Cedar, the latest toy guns are from Penguin. Inque and I work well together, Willie Watt and I have history and he in equal parts hates me and tolerates me. Spellbinder and i have an agreement. I stay out of his part of the underground and he lets me ferry things through so long as I don't step on his turf. Fair enough. I don't know where the Royal Flush Gang is, so"

"Did someone touch you before?" It was Terry. Terminal frowned and closed his eyes. He had been wondering that. He was just good at burying things, it seemed.

"...Yes" it was coming slowly, but it was there. Freshman year. He'd been one of those kids who grew unevenly into his body. He was too big for his age and too long, though solid. But his face...he supposed that was what sold it. "Highschool. I was fourteen, maybe fifteen. I didn't see their face. I didn't hear a voice. I only smelled shower soap and we were both wet. I never said anything and there were no marks on me except some bruises on my hips"

"Am I interrupting something awful?" came a voice that conveyed boredom and sheer rage at the same time. Terminal looked over at Ghoul and tilted his head. He'd ask the hows later.

"Hey handsome" He said cheerfully as he could. Awful thing for Ghoul to walk in on. And shit, what was he thinking? Terminal was strapped down, had wounds on his face and neck, and probably looked worse than he actually felt. Ghoul shook his head and held up his hand. It held familiar pellets and Terminal's eyes widened. Ghoul had to be really ticked off to actually use Joker Gas pellets. Ghoul put oh his mask and threw his handful, Terminal taking a deep breath as they flew and Ghoul darted forward to free him. His hands were freed, and his torso, and then the narrow hands tugged on his more solid ones and he got up and ran as the heroes started laughing. His heart screamed. He hadn't wanted this, hadn't wanted to hurt anyone. Not this time. He looked over his shoulder, Terry and Rex were clinging to each other. He slipped from Ghoul's hand and took the two and began pulling them out of the room. The pellets were diluted, the lack of true potency made it delayed in permanency. They had two minutes before it did more lasting damage. When Terry and Rex recovered, they could better help the others. He pulled them out of the room and left them propped against the door before Ghoul grabbed him again. It was easy to get out. The heroes that were on guard duty were all knocked out and Jokerz were milling about. Terminal couldn't cry in front of his people, but he came close.

* * *

"Of all the stupid things, I will admit I'm not totally mad, you gave me the opportunity to get in and play around with their files and take information, though they don't have any real information on each other that I could see, and that's actually pretty smart" Terminal sat on the toilet and let Ghoul disinfect his wounds as he stared down at his hands. "But of all the stupid things. Why did you help Batman?"

"Personal trauma"

Ghoul stopped and looked at him, pausing to cup his cheek gently. Terminal didn't balk. Ghoul and he weren't partners in the romantic sense, didn't even see each other as "boyfriend material", but their interactions rose from mutual understandings of trust and knowing that if one needed that sort of touch, the other would be there without question.

"I never asked about your childhood or your "other life" in your teenage years. I don't hold the idiot thought that you'll ever tell me when you feel comfortable. We are as comfortable together as two people can be and we know nothing about each other's pasts. But you need to explain. Right now. What that means and why it caused _this_ "

Terminal started trembling and blindly reached out his arms, to which Ghoul answered with a tight hug.

"I was verbally abused. Maybe not just. I don't know. There's such...gaps...in my memory. And then that incident when I was fourteen and I just forgot. And no matter how they tried, and I was willing to let them because I didn't want to talk, they couldn't get past a certain part of my mind. It was always Arkham. It was always twisted pieces of things that had happened, replaced with people in that room. I don't know what's going on. I can't remember making traps in my head, and that-it was too elaborate-I think I'm going crazy" tears were wetting Ghoul's shirt and it physically hurt to cry but he couldn't _not_ cry. "They had to restrain me because I was ripping at myself trying to get out of my own mind"

Ghoul held him tighter. "Okay. This calls for movies. Thai food and movies" He said gently. The only room with a working tv was Terminal's room. Not really on purpose, but people seemed to like smashing them in their headquarters/flat and Terminal never let anyone into his room besides Ghoul and Deidre. Ghoul let him cry himself out however, and rubbed his back until he was okay enough to let go of Ghoul and stand up, rubbing at his face. Ghoul pulled out his phone and began dialing for the thai restaurant they loved and had thus spared because hell, Mama Anong had the best food and greatest smile. She always treated them like sons and not known crime lords. It was great. They walked into Terminal's bedroom, and suddenly Ghoul was on the floor, the door was swinging shut and a woman sitting in the dark on Terminal's bed was standing up.

"Carter Wilson. Long time. Killed any computer nerds lately?"

Carter inclined his head.

"Dana. I knew you had to have dumped him for a reason. Did you ever love him, or did you only date him to keep an eye on the city?"

A sharp pain to the back of his head and he collapsed beside Ghoul.

Why did this bad keep happening to him? And now he'd dragged Ghoul into his misery. Shit.


End file.
